It's Monday, have a chapter! It's a small chapter – think of it as a dessert to the steak-dinner of chapter nine. Mmmm, dessert!
Most importantly: I'd like to welcome my new followers, your interest in this story is very motivating and deeply flattering!
Then: I'd really like some feedback on how you are experiencing the story so far. Are there any special situations you want we to write? How do you feel about the focus of the story – is there an okay balance between personal stuff and action? Is the phase too slow? Too fast? Please let me know, I'm really interested in your thoughts, so feel free to review or PM me!
Warning/spoiler/teaser (depends on you disposition): This chapter contains mentions of implied prostitution, although nothing graphical. Be… warned, I guess.
Chapter ten – Silver lining
I take a sip of my drink, listening to Jack who is still complaining about his headache. I sigh, he's been at it since we got back to 'The Captain's lap'. It's starting to get more than a bit annoying.
"I don't know what it was they slipped in my drink, but it was some nasty stuff!" he huffs and rubs his head. Behind him, I can see Gibbs roll his eyes, clearly also getting enough of the complaining.
"Are you sure it's not just you not being able to hold your drink?" he asks. Jack gasps, looking genuinely shocked.
"I object to this slander! I was poisoned, most viciously!" He glares at Gibbs, who looks back sceptically.
"He actually was," I confirm. "Before I left, I saw a man talking to the waitress, paying her off. He's a priest – a dodgy one - that probably knows a lot about stolen relics. Your investigative methods must have spooked him, so he drugged you to make sure you wouldn't ask any more questions." Jack nods.
"Priests! There's no trusting them," he says darkly. "Shady fellows the lot of them. I knew a priest once that…" Then he furrows his brows. "I didn't see anyone dressed as a priest at the bar."
I curse mentally, but I knew I would have to explain this at some point, might just get it over with.
"He wasn't dressed as a priest."
"Then how did you know his profession, Girlie? If you don't mind me asking?" There's a glint of suspicion in Jack's eyes. I draw my breath. Well, here it goes…
"I knew because I know him. We meet here, in Tortuga. He was a customer at an… establishment where I was occasionally engaged." I look him straight in the eyes, refusing to blush or feel any shame. I did what I had to do. My two accomplices exchange glances, but say nothing about the matter, in stead Gibbs exclaims:
"Then we'll get the relic by the means of the blackest of mail!" Both Jack and I stare at him with dead eyes. "I talk of blackmail," he explains. "Churchly fellow like him probably don't want it to be known…"
"Yes, mate, we sort of figured," Jack interjects. "And we'll have that as a plan B, in case all goes south, but for now we'll stick with Girlie robbing him blind as we keep him busy, savvy?"
We both nod.
"Probably best," Gibbs says.
"Definitely," I mumble.
I watch Girlie sharpen my knives, considering the new information about her former… occupation. I'm not really surprised, as I had a slight suspicion. It is hard to imagine anyone making it as a pickpocket in Tortuga, as half of the islands economy consists of buttons, belt buckles and IOUs. There simply isn't enough to steal. And there are plenty of establishments offering a girl a reliable income. It's an understandable decision, but she must have been so young… I catch myself wondering how old she really is – a question I doubt she has the exact answer to – but dismiss the thought. We were all too young: At her age, Gibbs was already in the navy, learning to kill people, and I was educating myself at sea, learning harsh life-lessons every day.
Girly holds my favourite knife up to the candle, watching the way the light glints of the steel with an appreciating little smile, I can't help smiling too, although with a bittersweet feeling. We were all too young, but hell, what can we do about it? Use it as blackmail-material, apparently. Talk about silver lining… But we'll try stealing the relics before possibly trying any alternative approaches: First we steal, then we blackmail, and if all fails, I guess we just run away bloody fast. I wince as Girly accidentally drops one of my knives, which hits the cobbles with a loud clang. Damn, my head hurts!